THE Udston Colliery disaster was Scotland’s second worst mining tragedy. Some 73 men were killed in the explosion that erupted deep in the Lanarkshire mine in this week in 1887.

Coal mining has always been a dangerous and dirty job. Over the centuries until the last deep pit in Scotland, Longannet, closed in 2002, thousands of men and boys and a few women and children – in the latter case usually as a result of accidents above ground – lost their lives, especially in the 19th century and the first half of the 20th century, when demand for coal was massive and safety precautions were often minimal.

The Scottish Mining Website shows the astonishing fact that from 1799 to 1982, there was not a single year that did not see a fatality connected with coal mining. Their records show that people continue to die on open-cast sites, with four this century, but the last man to die in a deep pit was William Gorman, 35, who was killed on March 27, 1993, when a coal face fell on him at Monktonhall Colliery near Edinburgh.

The worst ever mining disaster in Scotland took place on October 22, 1877, when 207 miners were killed in a massive explosion deep underground at Blantyre Colliery. The cause of the disaster was said to be a naked light igniting a large quantity of firedamp, a combination of gases such as methane which leak into mines from coal faces and other mineworks.

Firedamp was also partly blamed for the Udston disaster, which happened just a mile or so from Blantyre in a colliery in which two pits had been sunk to exploit three coal seams known as Ell, Main and Splint coal.

Udston mine was on the west side of Hamilton near the mining villages of High Blantyre and Burnbank. It was reputed to be a relatively “safe” mine as regular inspections showed it to be free of lethal gases, though five years before the disaster, three miners were killed and seven seriously injured at Udston in a firedamp explosion.

We can still read the original report by Ralph Moore, HM Inspector of Mines, who thoroughly examined every aspect of the 1887 disaster. In his straightforward civil servant tone, he described what happened on the fateful morning.

“On Saturday morning, the 28th May, about five minutes past nine, a disastrous explosion took place at this colliery, causing the death of 73 persons. One hundred and eighty-four men had descended the pit that morning, and when the explosion occurred they were all there except two who had ascended. Measures were at once taken for the relief of those underground and before 3 o’clock pm all the men in the Ell and Main Coals were got out, and it was found that the workings in these seams were not damaged, but that the explosion had occurred in the Splint Coal.

“Five of the men in the Main Coal were killed by choke-damp which came up from the Splint Coal, and it was feared that the 71 persons who were in that seam were all dead.

“Preparations were at once made for ventilating and exploring the Splint Coal workings, and in about 45 hours after the explosion they had all been explored and all the bodies removed, with the exception of seven which were under falls of roof. The last of these was recovered on the 14th of June.

“Two men were found alive within 30 yards of the bottom of No 2 pit and are now recovering. All of the others were dead. Dr Robertson, Hamilton, who examined the bodies, certifies that 53 were burned, and 20 were suffocated.”

The Hamilton Advertiser newspaper printed all the names of the dead and gave often horrifying descriptions of their injuries – broken limbs by the dozen and terrible wounds to heads and bodies, with all said to have died of either “burning” and “suffocation” or both. It also stated that many of the bodies had been found with matches or other inflammables on them – indicating that it was human error that caused the explosion – while other reports blamed the practice of “shot firing”, or using explosives to break up coal seams.

Some of those who survived did so by climbing up the pit to near the surface. Others simply huddled below ground and waited to be rescued, a few men and boys becoming delirious as they did so, mostly from the effects of gases released into the mine by the explosion.

From contemporary reports it seems that the swiftly mounted rescue operation by miners from nearby pits got out the men in the Main and Ell seams, and their task soon became a body-recovery mission.

The disaster devastated families for miles around. Richard Cook, 50, and his two sons, James 17, and Thomas, 20, were all killed, as were several sets of brothers such as Thomas and William Dennistoun, Thomas and Walter Penman, John and George Harkness, and David and James Crichton. The youngest to die was 13-year-old David Shanks whose father, also David, was also killed.

Dozens of widows and children were left to mourn, and a large relief fund was set up to assist them. Incredibly, Udston Colliery was back working within weeks of the disaster.

The future Labour leader and Mineworkers’ Federation secretary Keir Hardie caused huge controversy when he denounced the disaster as “murder” just days afterwards. He had lost several personal friends at Udston and had criticised its safety procedures which, to be fair, were just as poor as more or less every other pit in Scotland.

There is a memorial to the men and boys who lost their lives on May 28, 1887, at Udston in Hamilton near where the pit stood.